


My True Love Gave to Me

by Anara_Muse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Everyone Can Read!, F/M, Gen, Het Odd Chapters, Slash Even Chapters, The Advent Challenge (2016) by MayWeWrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anara_Muse/pseuds/Anara_Muse
Summary: Join Hermione, Severus, Riddle, and others as they enjoy Christmas with their loved ones...or soon to be loved ones.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’m not making any money doing this. Trust me, if I were, I would be writing a whole lot more. This is J.K. Rowling’s world, and I play in it and screw it up for fun. Enjoy!  
> P.S. Beta'd by the wonderful Magi_Silverwolf, who without, you would not be able to stomach this fic.

Hermione looked at the clock apprehensively, her husband’s hand still firmly at “work.” She was worried, of course, but after three hours of extra waiting, she was starting to get annoyed. With another furtive glance at the unmoving hand, Hermione went to grab her coat and other warm things. Suddenly, there was a POP! and a tall man with dark hair and startlingly beautiful red eyes was in front of her. However, Hermione didn’t register _who_ it was, just that _someone_ had gotten through the wards. Hours of pent-up worry and frustration bubbled and frothed over the surface, and her Gryffindor traits won out over her sensible mind. In an instant, there was a wand at the perpetrator’s throat, and a snarling Hermione, ready to fire at will.

    “Oh my dear, is that any way to welcome your husband from a long day at work?” Tom Riddle smirked, as devastatingly handsome as ever. Hermione flushed, and Tom laughed, as carefree as he hadn’t been in a long time. “Are you telling me, my little duck, that you forgot the wards are impenetrable? Or keyed only to yourself and to me?”

    Hermione huffed and turned away. “You should have been home at one, Tom. It’s Christmas Eve! Why were you at the Ministry so long? What was more important than…” realising what she was saying too late, Hermione trailed off and blinked back tears, determined not to show weakness, even if they had been married for five years.

    “Than you, you mean? Mrs. Riddle, I have only been Minister for five years! There are disruptions, rebellions, and it is _my job_ to make sure people are kept safe!”

    “ _Your_  people, you mean? What if it were Harry in trouble with the rebels, or Ron? What would you do then, Tom?” Hermione stared him down and continued talking. “But they were against you in the beginning, weren’t they? _I_ was against you. What if someone targeted me? People already have; I have to wear a glamour now. I’m-”

    “Wearing one right now,” Tom said lightly, though his anger was close to the surface. “You have forgotten, my dear,” he said, ignoring Hermione’s shell-shocked expression, “That your precious Gryffindors are now prized members of my Ministry. And you have also forgotten that I am now the most powerful wizard in the world. Your glamours are in place, yes, but I can still feel the magic, especially when I do _this_ .” _This_ being Tom squishing himself to his wife after turning her around, and kissing her voraciously. There was still the sense that something was wrong, like whenever he touched her lately, but he was intent on staking his claim. Tom’s hands roamed to her backside, but she stepped away.

    “Tom, please, don’t be mad.” Hermione said quietly. “I thought you could sense the glamour, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I mean, you never wanted children, and before Professor Snape made you that de-aging potion, you never would have lived long enough to see them grow, and--”

    “Hermione,” Tom interrupted tightly, finally using her name for the first time since he got home. “You are forgetting we are not muggles. We live for hundreds of years, which is part of the reason I didn’t care about our age difference. What is fifty years when you are three hundred and fifty?”

    “Tom, _please_ , understand. I’m sorry, but I can’t, I can’t…I can’t just get rid of the child. _Our_ child. I know you don’t want chil--”

    “You keep saying that,” he said roughly. “But what part of pureblood dictator don’t you understand? I have laws set in place that _you helped create_ to bring back the population of our kind. Have you really missed that I have never used a protection charm when we make love? For five years you’ve missed that fact? Hermione,” Tom said, his voice softening, “I love you. And I will love whatever child we make. We have been trying for _five years_. And finally, you’re telling me in the most backward way, saying I don’t want children? If only for the most disgusting reason of furthering the pureblood legacy…” Here he shook his head. “Hermione, I never had a happy childhood. You’ve figured that out through hours of research. But be rest assured, I do want a family. Quite a large one, who will love me almost as much as I love them.”

    Here Tom stopped, watching his wife, who stared at him almost disbelievingly. “But…” Hermione trailed off, then bravely started up again, albeit quietly. “You never mentioned it.”

    Tom looked at Hermione, and suddenly laughed. “Neither did you, my dear. But that’s neither here nor there. It’s Christmas Eve. Let me open my present.”

    “Okay,” Hermione said eagerly, finally glad to have this conversation over with. She stepped over to the tree they had painstakingly decorated a few weeks prior and bent down, trying to figure out which to give him first. “Just, give me a moment, okay?”

    “Mmm,” Tom agreed, loving the view of Hermione’s pert backside. Twenty-three looked even better on her than eighteen had. After a moment, with Hermione still swaying from side to side, trying to choose a gift, he came over and grabbed her hips, making her straighten. “That’s all nice, my dear Hermione,” Tom said, his tone making chills go down Hermione’s spine, “But I was talking about a different gift.”

    “You mean, oh,” she said. She laughed lightly and shook her head. “Even after five years, and I’m still as easy to surprise as a virgin. Okay Tom, unwrap me.”

    Tom smiled almost evilly, and waved his hand in a pattern that dropped Hermione’s glamour. A baby bump, quite large and not really a bump, pushed out from Hermione’s lithe frame. Tom frowned. “Hermione?”

    “No!” She said, shocked. “I’m only three months along, I shouldn’t be this big!”

    “Calm down, my dear. Let me just check something.” With another display of wandless magic, Tom smiled as he saw two pink orbs appear. He looked into the love of his life’s face and saw shock, confusion, but also joy. Unutterable joy.

    “Twins,” she whispered. “Girls! Two of them! But oh, Tom, I’m so sorry.”

    “What are you sorry for now? In the summer, there will be four of us! Two of my own little girls. We’ll have a boy later, if that’s what’s worrying you. Hermione,” he said, placing his hands on either side of her face, “You have given me the best gift anyone could. We’ll have a family. A family!” He said in wonder, loving the sound of it on his tongue. He kissed her softly, then deepened it, making the kiss passionate. He led her to the wall, and said roughly, “I know Christmas is the day to open presents, but I never got any. Now, it’s Christmas Eve and I finally have one. And I don’t plan to wait.” He kissed her again, this time with no objection from his wife, who seemed to agree with him wholeheartedly.


End file.
